


The Odd Heroic Act

by allacesandeights



Series: Some Kind of Villain [1]
Category: The Flash (TV 2014), The Flash - All Media Types
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-08
Updated: 2018-02-08
Packaged: 2019-03-15 13:02:35
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 14,638
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13613931
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/allacesandeights/pseuds/allacesandeights
Summary: The evolution of Captain Cold, with a little deviation from canon... and a lot of ColdFlash.Follows the plot of Family of Rogues and Running to Stand Still before filling in the gaps around season 2.If you view the timeline as a little flexible it could even be considered canon compliant."He should have known that Barry Allen, CSI, would be waiting for him at the police station. How no one else had figured out his secret identity yet was beyond Len, unless the entire CCPD was in on it. The kid looked desperate to talk to him, but hung back without a proper excuse to get close. At least he had some sense. All Barry could do was watch as Len was booked and taken down to holding. All Len could do was wait."





	The Odd Heroic Act

Lenny. Why did the kid have to say Lenny? 

He hadn't realised, not at the time. The Flash had paid another unwelcome visit and pulled that stunt with 'Sam.' Even if his dear old dad had been fooled - Barry did know what he was talking about - he should have realised the assumption Lewis would make, and his reaction. It wasn't until they were in the van that it all became clear to Len.

'So you've worked with this kid before?' Lewis said, when Barry was out of earshot in the back.  
'Like he said, the job last year,' Len replied, his practiced drawl hiding any trace of apprehension.  
'Seems real friendly, for one of your crew.'  
A warning sounded in Len's head, as if he needed any reminders of how dangerous the man next to him was, but he refused to lose his cool.  
'He gets the job done. That's all that matters.'  
'If you say so, son. We'll see what he's got.' Len risked a glance and saw Lewis' twisted grimace.

Lewis operated in Central City. Len moved in and out, only spending time here when he was planning a heist, but still he had a reputation. Big names tended to attract gossip, so it was inevitable that Lewis would catch wind of Len's associates. Particularly his recreational associates. Len wasn't ashamed of himself but it didn't stop him being wary of Lewis' opinions, especially when those opinions often turned into violent actions.

If he hadn't been so focused on his sister, he would have laughed at his old man's conclusions. He usually took every opportunity to flirt with the Flash - it was part of their game - but this was family business and Barry was definitely unwelcome. 

Len was glad that Lisa had gone to Team Flash, if only because they'd figured out that Lewis had injected the bomb and might have the tech to save her. But Barry's attempt to keep watch on Lewis and protect their 'no-murder' deal was just another uncertainty in a plan that already had too many holes for Len's liking. Len's priority was his sister, and he wasn't going to risk that for anyone his dad decided was a loose end.

By the time they got up to the locked door and 'Sam' stepped up, Len knew what was about to happen. It was a choice between Lisa and everyone else - and Len would always choose his sister. But being prepared didn’t help the wave of nausea that hit him when Barry went down, the guilt and sadness for this kid-turned-hero. The Flash had been a great nemesis, had pushed him to be better, upped the stakes and the thrills when Len had already reached the top of the game. Barry Allen had been relentlessly optimistic, protective and loyal. But this was about Lisa, and he didn't have time to mourn either of them.  
'Sorry, Barry,' he murmured, before following Lewis into the vault.

165 seconds later and the sirens tripped. Lewis poured the last of the diamonds into his bag and Len could see the end of this nightmare. As they turned to make their escape a blur of movement streaked into the vault. Len had his cold gun aimed and finger on the trigger before he could think. 

The Flash, all red leather and lightning, was standing between the thieves and their exit.

Len froze as he tried to control the surge of relief at Barry's resurrection, vaguely following his and Lewis' conversation. Barry was playing for time, he could tell, and he wished he knew how much Barry needed.  
Lewis flicked open the detonator in front of him. 'Shoot him son.'  
Out of time Barry, Len thought. Barry's almost imperceptible headshake countered him. Hold out a little longer, it said.  
Lewis had no intention of waiting, with his thumb still on the detonator. 'Kill him or you'll never see your sister alive.'  
Lisa, this was about Lisa. Len had no choice. Barry was fast, he could dodge the cold gun, he had plenty of warning. He had to save his sister. Len willed himself to pull the trigger, locking eyes with Barry and desperately hoping he would move. His finger closed when Barry's hand flew to his ear.  
'Lisa's safe.'  
Len let out the breath that had frozen in his lungs as pure relief swept through him. His sister was safe, Barry was alive and Lewis...  
Lewis was powerless as he turned to face Len, still holding up the detonator as a reminder of the threat he'd levelled against Lisa. Rage swept through Len as he swung the cold gun round to his father.

Never again, he thought. Never again would he let this pathetic excuse of a man, this twisted impersonation of a father, get anywhere near his sister.

Just knowing that Lewis Snart was alive in the world was too much of risk and Len knew the only way he could protect his sister was in this moment. He made his decision without hesitation, firing ice directly into Lewis' heart.  
As Lewis fell to his knees, he looked up at Len. 'You're working with the Flash?' His voice was strained, Len hoped it was because of the pain. 'I thought you hated him.'  
Len stared at the man who had beaten his mother and his sister, given him more than half the scars on his body, used him as a tool and gotten him thrown in prison as a child. The man who had put a bomb in Lisa's neck. 'Not as much as I hate you.'  
Lewis collapsed to the floor, dead at Len's feet. He knelt down to look at the face of his father, wondering if he should feel some sort of regret. All he felt was disbelief. Like there was a delay in his mind accepting that Lewis was gone, that the threat was gone.  
The cold gun was lifted out of his hands as Barry stood over him. 'Lisa was safe,' he said quietly, 'why did you do that?'  
Len looked up at Barry, seeing the concern on his face. No one should grieve for Lewis Snart, he thought, he doesn't deserve it.  
A grim satisfaction edged into his voice. 'He broke my sister's heart. Only fair I should break his.'  
Barry held his gaze, as if he could convey every thought and emotion through his eyes, before the first responders charged through the vault doors.  
Len didn't resist, didn't say a word. An eerie calm had settled over him. He had saved his sister. Lewis would never abuse her again. They were free. He accepted the cuffs and was led down to the police car. The Flash didn't stick around, disappearing as soon as the cops had hold of Len, and for a moment he was disappointed at the loss.

At least he was alive, Len thought. At least Lewis couldn’t touch the Flash.

He should have known that Barry Allen, CSI, would be waiting for him at the police station. How no one else had figured out his secret identity yet was beyond Len, unless the entire CCPD was in on it. The kid looked desperate to talk to him, but hung back without a proper excuse to get close. At least he had some sense. All Barry could do was watch as Len was booked and taken down to holding. All Len could do was wait.

He didn't have to wait long. The CCPD were obviously nervous about holding Captain Cold, putting maximum security on his transfer to Iron Heights. He knew Lisa and Mick wouldn't risk hitting the transport again, not now the Flash was wise to that trick, and with the previous warrant still standing they could lock him up as soon as the sun rose. It hardly mattered, he didn't plan on staying long regardless.

He was vaguely surprised, a few hours after he slipped into his fashionable new jumpsuit, to be called up to visiting. There, on the other side of the glass, stood Barry Allen. Len levelled him with a bored, disbelieving stare before he walked across the room. Seriously, he thought, how does he still have a secret identity? The kid probably couldn't spell discreet. Barry sat down opposite him and picked up the phone, seemingly oblivious to Len's incredulity.  
'Last time I was in Iron Heights I was visiting my dad,' he said.  
Len couldn't help the bitterness that slipped into his voice. 'Yeah, me too.'  
'And yet you killed him.' Barry's tone was almost chiding.  
'He deserved it,' Len countered. Barry huffed a smile, and Len thought for a second he was making light of his father's abuse, his violence and his threats, and didn't do anything to control the cold danger slipping into his eyes and his voice as he held Barry's gaze. 'Is that funny to you?'  
Barry sobered immediately. 'No,' he said sadly, 'what's funny is that I finally figured out your secret.'  
'And what secret would that be?'  
'You'd do anything to protect your sister.'  
Len considered Barry for a moment. Did Barry think he could use Lisa against him? The kid just watched him kill his own father to keep her safe. What was his play here? If Barry thought he'd finally found some leverage to tip the scales back in his favour, then Len was going to make sure he knew how wrong he was.  
'Well I know your secret too. Better hope I don't talk in my sleep,' he drawled, menacing in his flippancy.  
'You won't.' Len stilled. Barry's confidence meant that he truly believed he had an ace up his sleeve. His expression took on a smug edge as he leaned towards Len. 'Today just proved what I've always known.'  
Len said nothing, eyes locked on Barry's. He would not give him the satisfaction of thinking he could scare Captain Cold.  
Barry's eyes twinkled suddenly as he continued. 'There's good in you, Snart. And you don't have to admit it to me, but there's a part of you that knows you don't have to let your past define you. A part of you that really wants to be more than just a criminal.'  
A lesser man would have laughed in Barry's face. This was his ace? That Len was secretly wishing for a chance to be just like the Flash? This was too much. He couldn't hold the kid's gaze; looking at that beautiful smirk on Barry's face and knowing he truly believed that he'd got one over on Len almost made him lose his cool. But this was his game and he was just starting to have fun. Losing some of the ice in his voice and letting a more playful edge come in, he knew a slight smile was playing on his face. 'So I should be a hero like you Barry?'  
Len looked up and found sparkling green eyes once more. 'What exactly does that pay again?'  
Barry's smugness was unfazed. 'It's just a matter of time. Something you'll have a lot of, in here,' he said, gesturing at their surroundings.  
Len couldn't pass up the opportunity. 'Not as much as you think.'  
Now he knew the kid's angle, he could fall back into the dynamic he enjoyed. But he did have business awaiting his attention - his prison break wasn't going to plan itself. Throwing one last smirk at Barry, he let his expression jump teasingly and dropped to a near-whisper: 'Be seeing you.'  
Cutting off any reply Barry might have by promptly hanging up the phone, Len enjoyed the slightly dumb look on the Flash's face as he stood until he allowed the guard to lead him away.  
Two months, he thought, that should be long enough. He'd cased the prison before, on the assumption that he would one day need to break out Mick, or possibly himself. Learning the guard routines, getting the right messages to Mick and Lisa - he could already see the plan unfolding in his head.

Expect the plan to go off the rails.  
Five weeks later his only option was to throw away the plan.  
He looked at the guard standing at the door to his cell. 'The Meta Human Wing,' Len spat. 'Didn't think I fit the requirements.'  
The guard at least had the decency to look sheepish. 'Sorry Snart, the transfer order got approved. They'll be setting up your cell already.'  
'Guess I should be flattered. Sounds like they've gone to a lot of trouble.' Len turned away to make it clear he was dismissing the guard, who thankfully took the hint and left. The Meta Human Wing was a new addition to Iron Heights, each cell tailor-made to contain individual super-powered criminals. Len couldn't be sure what security they'd put in place for him, which meant that he would have to wait until he was in the damn thing to case it. Less than ideal.  
A few hours later, when he was certain he wasn't being monitored, he went to his emergency burner and called Mick.  
'I've hit a snag. Things will have to be rearranged.'  
Mick growled in his ear. 'What the hell happened?'  
'Someone has arranged a cosy new cell for me, up in the meta wing.'  
'The meta wing? Huh. Classy.'  
'Yeah it's a real upgrade. Double the security. It'll take some time to put together a new plan.'  
'You need anything else sent in?'  
'Not sure yet. They custom-build the cells, depends what they decide my superpower is.'  
'My guess? Dramatics.'  
'Cute.'  
'You want me to cause some trouble with the build? Steal their materials? Torch some delivery trucks?'  
'Can't draw that kind of attention. We need this to be a surprise. It's the only way Lisa has a shot too.'  
'You want her to wait?'  
'Everything has to happen at once. If STAR labs is robbed before I get out, they'll start watching me. If I get out first, it'll be harder to get the gun. I don't want Lisa taking risks.'  
'Right. No breakout, no gun. Got it.'  
'See what can be found out about the cell design here. I'll be in touch.'  
'You got it.'  
The line clicked as Mick hung up and Len re-hid the phone. He couldn't risk taking it with him but he wouldn't be able to access it from his new cell. He'd have to get a new one. Good thing enough of the guards in this place were amenable to bribes.

A few days later, the meta wing was almost ready for him. Len had already started tracking the guard rotations and he was sure he'd be sent the blueprints soon enough. Thinking about what they could possibly have planned for him, Len smirked when he considered that of all the skills he possessed it was his patience that made him a supervillain. Creating the perfect opportunity took meticulous planning, nothing could be rushed or overlooked, and he could do it better than anyone.  
Sitting in his cell, the storm that had been raging for most of the day took a violent turn as the wind battered his window. So much for a decent night's sleep. Picking up his book, he flicked through to the last page he marked, as lightning flashed outside. The wind was shaking the window so hard in it's frame that it almost drowned out the thunder.  
When the lockdown alarms sounded a moment later, he paused. There could be any number of reasons for the sirens. A fight in a cell, a problem in the medical bay, even faulty wiring.  
Still, this storm was particularly bad.  
It was a leap, he knew that, but if there was a chance... it couldn't hurt to be prepared.  
He grabbed some socks and pulled on his boots, before standing up to get his jacket. As he turned and leaned against the edge of his desk, the lights came on. The cell was pretty bare, he never brought personal items into prison, so he didn't need to take anything with him. He was a patient man, but looking around him he sure as hell hoped he wasn't wrong.  
Len's hunch paid off when Mardon came into view through the bars of his cell door. A shame to waste the favour on a prison break he would have eventually accomplished anyway, but he wasn't about to turn it down.  
'Knock knock.' Mardon blasted the lock with a snowball and the door swung open. He stepped inside and grinned at Len. 'So, early parole. You interested?'  
The man was far too satisfied with himself, but on this occasion Len could overlook it. He took a step forward and smirked back. ‘I really believe I am ready to re-enter society.’  
Mardon turned and led the way down the hall without another word and Len followed suit.  
The guards did not impede them as they moved down the corridors, mainly because they were already out cold. Well, Len didn’t stop to check for a pulse on any, but he assumed they were still alive. Descending a couple of floors Mardon led them into the service tunnels and pulled out a map. Len didn’t have to glance at them to know they were heading in the direction of the meta wing. Since Len was currently relying on Mardon for his escape he thought to make an effort to avoid antagonising him; they weren’t exactly friends, but if Mardon had another rescue mission in mind he’d rather know.  
‘Not to be a noodge,’ he said as casually as possible, ‘but the exit is upstairs.’  
‘Just need one more thing.’ Mardon replied. Len waited for him to elaborate but Mardon just continued forward, following his map. Len opted not to press further and kept silent as they reached the meta wing, ascending to the cells. As they walked the corridors Mardon took care of the guards with a grim glee. Len thought briefly about his deal with the Flash, hoped that the snap he heard was a broken leg rather than a broken neck. He didn’t care, of course not, he just thought it was sloppy. Mardon had no skill, no finesse. Len didn’t need to kill anyone to get what he wanted.  
Thinking of the Flash as he walked through the meta wing made him remember the pipeline. Barry Allen may be pure as snow in everybody else’s eyes but Len could see the ruthless edge to him. Barry had been so desperate not just to keep the city's population safe, but to keep his own secret, that he’d locked people up in permanent isolation. And had arranged to have said illegal prisoners shipped out to a shady prison island. For a kid who must have seen the impact prison had on his own father, Len would have thought that he’d have more sympathy for the incarcerated. Hell, he’d even been willing to risk Len going back on their deal and killing someone else to protect his identity. Barry Allen was a hero, Len was convinced of that, but he was still human, and he could be selfish and impulsive just like anyone else. Where did that road paved with good intentions lead again? Oh, right.  
Mardon slowed by a door and Len took that to mean they’d arrived. Breaking open the door they walked not into a cell but a viewing room. Across which Len could see an expanse of reinforced glass and behind it...  
‘You’ve got to be kidding me.’  
He’d known from the day he met him that Mardon would never be part of his crew. He was angry and reckless. But this was more than just a bad idea.  
James Jesse, Central City’s most notorious terrorist, stood behind the glass. Surrounded by drawings of the Flash that did not suggest an entirely healthy mindset, Len noted. Apparently he hadn’t forgiven him for cutting his last burst of freedom short.  
The man himself looked thrilled to see them. ‘It’s beginning to look a lot like Christmas,’ he announced.  
Len stopped himself from audibly groaning. It was beginning to look a lot like something alright, of which Len wanted no part. He needed to get back to his own crew, who had their priorities straight.  
His own crew. The gun. Lisa.  
‘Let’s get this show on the road shall we?’ He said, trying to get Mardon moving.  
The reinforced glass was more than glass, and it took a few attempts before Mardon could get through. These custom-made cells would have been a good challenge. He was looking forward to getting the plans for the one they’d designed for Captain Cold.  
As soon as they were out and on the move, Len took the address of Mardon’s safehouse and headed to the closest one of his own. He needed a change of clothes and a phone. It had already been half an hour since they left the prison.  
Dialling his sister’s number, this would be the first time they’d talked since he’d gone inside - but there was no time for a catch up. He heard Lisa pickup. ‘Hey sis, change of plans. I’m out.’  
‘Lenny,’ she sang at him. ‘It’s a Christmas miracle! What happened?’  
‘I’ll explain later, can you hit STAR labs safely tonight?’  
‘You want me to go in now? Sure Lenny, I’ve had everything arranged, just waiting for the go ahead.’  
‘Do it. I’ll meet you at the warehouse.’  
‘Consider it done, with style. See you soon, big brother.’  
‘Later, sis.’ Hanging up the phone, he redialled immediately. ‘Mick?’  
‘Snart?’  
‘I’m out, long story. Heading to the warehouse.’  
‘I’ll be there.’ The line went dead. The pyro could be a man of few words. Len had always appreciated that.  
Heading into the backroom he used, Len started pulling out clothes from a locker. As he changed, he thought about laundering the prison uniform and having it returned to the prison with a ‘thank you’ note. Or maybe he’d send it to Barry.  
His mind drifted to the pictures on the Trickster’s wall. Jesse had had a lot of time to consider his revenge against the speedster and, until the meta humans, he had been the city’s biggest threat. Len could only hope that his first capture by Team Flash hadn’t been a fluke.  
He didn’t have time to worry about the Flash. He wasn’t worried about the Flash. He had to get across town. Shrugging on a long black coat - his spare parka was at his warehouse - he picked up the set of keys from the locker. He headed out front to the bland saloon he kept parked for just such a situation as this. This was why planning ahead was important.

He’d met Mick at the warehouse and waited another couple of hours for his sister to arrive. She’d sauntered in with a beaming smile and his cold gun in hand.  
‘You would have thought that the guys who protect the secret identity of the Flash would have better security. Honestly, I was in and out in under twenty minutes.’  
‘Well done sis, knew I could count on you.’ Len picked up the gun, feeling strangely relieved to have the familiar weight in his hand.  
‘So what happened Lenny? How did you get out?’  
‘Mardon. Came in to get me and the Trickster.’  
‘What’s he after?’  
‘Not sure yet, but I’m assuming it has something to do with the city’s resident hero.’  
Mick shifted from his workbench. ‘You want backup?’  
‘Not yet. I’m not convinced that they’re the best team for the job. Mardon’s volatile and Jesse, well Jesse is a in a league of his own. I want to find out what they’re planning first.’  
Len had an increasing feeling of unease. He had a good deal going with the Flash, island prison debacle aside. Pulling off the perfect heist and outsmarting the Flash was an unparalleled thrill. He had no interest in taking the kid out for good, not anymore.  
‘I’ll call when I know more.’  
The sun had started to rise as Len put the parka in the trunk of the car. It wouldn’t do for him to make himself too recognisable driving around so soon after his prison break. He did keep the cold gun up front though - if he was recognised he was hardly going to just walk back to Iron Heights.

Len circled the warehouse three times before he decided on parking on the east side. He shrugged on the parka and headed into the building, keeping his hand on the gun in its holster. He may have agreed to hear out their plan, but that doesn’t mean he trusted them.  
He could hear voices coming from inside. Moving silently up to the door, Len observed Mardon and Jesse for a few moments, the latter making remarks about christmas presents, whilst the former seemed to be intensely engaged in scowling.  
Len doubled back and made his entrance again, this time not bothering to mask his steps. Mardon had moved to the far side of the room in an attempt to defend against an uninvited guest. Hardly the best spot to pick but then Mardon hadn’t shown himself to be Rogue material so far. Jesse just grinned, barely allowing his attention to drift from whatever was on the table in front of him.  
‘Snart,’ Mardon said, relaxing slightly, ‘see you dressed up for the party.’  
‘Well I do like to make an impression,’ Len said, leaning against a metal staircase next to the entrance.  
Jesse jerked his head up with a smile. ‘A man after my own heart! Go big or go home, or in this case, go bang-’  
Len moved around the rail to sit on the metal stairs as the Trickster broke into song.  
‘Deck the halls with body parts from a girl named Holly, fa la la la la, la la la laaa!’  
All sorts of warnings were going off in Len’s head now. ‘I don’t remember those being the lyrics.’  
Jesse spun around with a flourish. ‘Oh I am tremendously creative, that I can tell you!’  
‘You better be,’ Mardon cut him off as he walked back across the room. ‘I didn’t break you out - I didn’t break either of you out so I could make new friends.’  
‘That is not the holiday spirit, Marky Mark,’ the Trickster crowed, cradling a stuffed bear that Len assumed was not an innocent child’s toy anymore. ‘Christmas is a time for togetherness! And what says togetherness more than mass graves, hmm?’ He twisted round to fix his maniacal stare on Len, who refused to encourage him. Instead he turned his attention to Mardon.  
‘So why did you break us out then?’  
‘Well I owed you one, and this guy,’ he said, gesturing to Jesse, ‘he’s just crazy.’ The Trickster’s eyes flicked to Mardon. ‘It’s a compliment,’ Mardon said, which Jesse accepted with a nod and a wink, still smiling like an halloween clown.  
But Mardon hadn’t finished. ‘And we all want the same thing.’  
‘Fashion advice?’ Len had had enough now. Whatever they were planning he could tell he wanted no part of it. How could he expect professionalism from these two?  
By his snarl, Mardon did not appreciate his humour. ‘To see the Flash dead.’  
‘Well that was more of a New Year’s resolution, but hey,’ Jesse interjected, making a show of adjusting his tie, ‘I can be flexible.’  
So it was a revenge mission. To see the Flash dead. Len ignored how that phrase sent a bolt through him - anger, dread, some other unnamed things he refused to examine. He was up and moving towards Mardon before he really registered that he’d stood. ‘That hasn’t gone so well for anyone in this room.’ Ducking around a meat hook displaying doll heads, he didn’t have to try to appear unimpressed by Mardon’s outburst. ‘What makes you think you can stop him this time?’  
‘Three against one, plus that one isn’t quite what he was,’ Mardon said with a smirk. ‘See another speedster, dressed all in black, nearly took him out a few weeks ago. He’s vulnerable.’ Mardon’s voice curled around the word like it was a revelation. ‘He’s weak.’  
‘It’s a mistake to underestimate him,’ Len cautioned, knowing that Mardon wouldn’t hear it. He could see the obsession in the meta’s eyes.  
‘With my power, his flair,’ Mardon said gesturing to Jesse, standing to one side hugging the bear to him and watching the exchange with glee, ‘and your smarts, we could put him in the ground for good.’ At least Mardon could recognise talent even if he had none of his own beyond the snowballs. And Len was finally getting answers.  
‘Tell me your plan.’  
‘Tell me you’re in.’  
‘I’m thinking about it.’ Len knew he was pushing and Mardon was not a man to endure teasing, but he refused to back down.  
‘What’s the matter? A few months in the clink make you soft, did it Snart?’ Mardon snapped.  
Len had found that the sound of the cold gun powering up was an effective answer to many stupid questions. A small voice in his mind whispered that the prison had nothing to do with it.  
Mardon stepped back quickly, ice misting between his hands and fear on his face for a second before the grin returned. ‘You wanna dance?’  
Jesse stepped between them, arms out. ‘Boys, boys, boys, play nice! Mellow out, Mardon. Don't have a snit, Snart. Here's an idea: we all go out, have a few drinks, kill some carolers. We'll all feel better!’  
Len powered down the gun as Mardon let go of the ice, still glaring at each other. Jesse looked at Len imploringly as Len refused to acknowledge him.  
‘Alright,’ Mardon said, placating the Trickster before turning back to Len. ‘So what’s it gonna be Snart?’

Len wanted to ice both of them out of spite and have done with it. Any way he looked at this it just didn’t benefit him to get rid of the Flash. For business, in a way the Flash had been good for him. Not just pushing him to be better, but proving him to be better to everybody else. Everyone knew that Captain Cold could go up against the Flash and win. Some of the time at least. He had already been respected as a ruthlessly efficient thief but the Flash made him a supervillain - as evidenced by the Captain Cold action figure Lisa had been so excited to find. Without that title, could he have so much control over so many other metas in the city? Mardon had the power to create a hurricane but he came to Captain Cold for help. If Len helped to take out the Flash permanently, who knew what meta was biding their time to fill that vacuum? No, with the Flash in Central City and upholding the terms of their agreement, Len was in a good position. He had taken on the crime families in the city and carved out his own space. He could work as he wanted. He could protect his sister. The Flash had made Captain Cold.  
Of course, all of this was predicated on the idea that the Flash and Captain Cold were enemies. So he narrowed his eyes at Mardon. ‘If you’re right about the other speedster, I’ll need to look into that. Taking down the Flash requires a foolproof plan. Right now I’m not sure that that’s what you’ve got. So I’m not in. Yet.’  
Mardon bristled but Jesse clapped his hands together. ‘Wonderful,’ he said. ‘And in the meantime we can spread some Christmas cheer!’ Dancing around he went back to his table and carried on with his toys.  
Mardon stood his ground. ‘Whatever, Snart. But we won’t wait forever.’  
Len took that as his final words on the matter. He threw his best Captain Cold smirk at the man and turned on his heel. ‘I’ll be in touch.’  
He had already decided that he wasn’t going to help them, but as he left a thought struck him. Chances were that Team Flash had come to a different conclusion. One that put Len firmly across the line they’d drawn.  
He couldn’t send them a message, he would never risk Team Flash having any evidence that he’d helped them.  
Captain Cold was going to have pay them a visit, and be able to walk away when it was done. He only had to convince the Flash, he thought. He didn’t have to see all of them - just Barry. And he had to make Barry give him enough time to hear him out.  
An idea that he’d had whilst in Iron Heights came back to him. A simple modification to the cold gun that would give him exactly the edge he was looking for. With a huff of laughter, he got into the car and headed back to his warehouse.

A few hours later with the modification complete, Len checked the precinct first, finding no one, and then STAR labs, where the entirety of Team Flash was gathered. When the West family left, he tailed them, watching as they said goodbye to the detective who headed in the direction of the station, before following Barry and Iris to a coffee shop.  
He considered tailing them inside, then thought better of it. He had spent a lot of time learning the habits of Barry Allen and his family, and he was certain he could pull off something slightly more fun.  
Driving into Barry’s neighbourhood, Len parked up a few blocks from his house and walked the rest. Getting through the residential alarm system was child’s play - they had access to all Cisco’s tech and yet none of it was used on their home. He would never understand some of the choices these people made.  
It wasn’t the first time he’d visited, so he only checked the basics - letters, the detective’s office, tv history. He always appreciated the detective’s music collection. Next time he would have to consider lifting a few records for himself.  
Wandering into the kitchen, he saw a gift set of cocoa on the counter. Picking it up to read the label, he thought back to when the last time he’d had any would have been. Last winter, maybe? A cup wouldn’t harm anyone. And he was sure that the Wests would... they would mind very much, which made it all the more enjoyable.  
After putting the milk on the heat, Len started going through the cupboards looking for marshmallows. He assumed, after he’d checked them all, that he’d just missed them and checked again. And then a third time.  
He should have expected this, really. Barry Allen went out of his way to inconvenience him in most things. Why should cocoa be any different?  
Choosing the most offensively Christmas mug he could find, he headed out of the kitchen. There was an armchair opposite the front door with good sight lines. He checked his watch; Barry and Iris should be getting back soon.

He’d nearly finished the cup when he heard the pair at the door and stilled, watching as Iris West walked almost fully into the room without seeing him. Barry closed the door behind them before following her. Len relished the exact moment that Barry realised something was wrong and his eyes found Len’s own.  
‘Ho ho ho,’ Len said, smug in his ability to strike the Flash dumb. He let his eyes sweep over Barry as he stood frozen, vaguely aware that he’d missed being able to appreciate him. He was, however, here to put on a show - so it had to go on. Putting the mug down, he carried on before Barry came to his senses. ‘Mmmm, cocoa just isn’t cocoa without the mini marshmallows, and you’re out. I checked.’ Something flashed in Barry’s eyes and Len had a split second to go for the gun before he was up against the mantle, Barry’s hands gripped in his parka.  
‘Are you out of your mind?’ Barry growled. ‘Breaking into my home?’  
There was a fury in his eyes that was hypnotising. Len could feel how Barry was practically pressed up against the length of him, humming with the Flash’s energy, and wanted in that moment to close that space. It was an effort to remind himself that this was a professional call.  
‘Careful. I made an upgrade to the cold gun. If I release my grip from the handle, the core goes critical. You might make it, she won't.’ Glancing over to Iris and back, Len gave as good as he got, projecting every ounce of his challenge into the stare he levelled back at Barry. A second later his felt the grip on his coat loosen and Barry stepped back. He almost missed the heat.  
Leaning back against the mantle of his own accord now, Len wanted to lighten the mood again, remembering why he was here. He looked up at Iris. ‘Read your article on the disappearing middle class. Strong point of view. Nice prose style.’  
She stepped down around the couch to stand next to Barry. ‘Yeah, well, who needs a Pulitzer when you have a homicidal maniac's seal of approval?’  
‘Didn't Barry tell you? I had a rough childhood.’  
‘Everyone in this room had a rough childhood. Get over it.’ Fearless, Len thought. He liked Iris West.  
Barry obviously didn’t want Len’s attention on Iris and cut in. ‘Why are you here, Snart?’  
‘I got the Noel spirit, wanted to give you a gift. Mardon broke Jesse and me out to kill you. Jesse's on board, of course. He's shaking with excitement. Me, I'm gonna pass.’ Len made sure to sound bored of his would-be teammates rather than concerned for their goals. Barry was not allowed to think that Captain Cold would have trouble attacking the Flash if the need ever arose.  
Iris scoffed. ‘Why? You grow a conscience?’  
‘Mardon wants revenge. Jesse wants chaos. I'm just not invested like they are.’ Len drawled.  
‘You mean there's no money in it for you?’ Iris retorted.  
‘I was never much for non-profit work.’  
‘If you're not in with them, then tell me where they are,’ Barry said flatly. Len could tell he was close to overstaying his welcome and took a step towards him.  
‘Nah, consider me more of a secret Santa. Besides, you and your friends love to solve a good mystery.’ He smirked and walked up the few steps to the front door, confident of his success. He did so love pushing the Flash’s buttons.  
Barry’s voice followed him, full of frustration. ‘You are full of it, Snart. I think my friends and I saved your sister's life and you can't stand owing me a marker. I hate to break it to you, but that - that right there is called honour.’  
Len turned back to see Barry staring back at him, infuriated. He wondered if he would ever get tired of this. ‘Go on, make your pitch. I can see you're dying to.’  
‘Help me stop them.’  
Simple, Len thought, earnest. He wondered if such words would have worked on a decent person. As far as Len was concerned he’d already given them all the help he was prepared to offer. ‘Sorry, I'm not interested in being a hero,’ he said flippantly, watching Barry wind himself up even more.  
‘Well, you're doing a pretty lousy job of being a villain this week,’ he snapped.  
Len was struck for a moment by how desperately Barry wanted to believe in him, how Barry would willingly welcome him into his team if only Len would just say the word. He was pretty sure that after this he would never have it in him to kill his nemesis. His eyes softened as he let a small amount of the regard he had for the hero show. ‘Merry Christmas, Barry,’ he said quietly, and then left.

Saints and Sinners was quiet that evening, or at least quiet enough that no one disturbed Len sitting in a booth across from the bar. His attention was focused on the television in the corner, where an excited news anchor was commentating on the scene taking place uptown. Len watched as the Flash stood against the Weather Wizard. They were using amateur footage until the news van could get there, but the shaky picture was clear enough to show the Flash using some kind weapon to confront Mardon, no doubt of Cisco’s design. Len had seen the speedster take plenty of beatings, some first hand, so he was willing to bet that this would end in a victory for the good guys.  
For a second Len thought that the confrontation had already come to that end, but any hope of an easy win was dashed as he watched, with a sinking feeling, the Flash hand his weapon to Mardon. This wasn’t a victory - this was a shift in power.  
A few seconds later and the feed was replaced with the channel’s own camera as the news van arrived. And there, Len could see, the Trickster appeared, grinning like a smug magician far too pleased with himself for deceiving his audience. Len only had a moment to consider what Jesse might have done to incapacitate his speedster before Mardon struck. He used Cisco’s contraption like a conduit for his lightning, each bolt he sent at Barry lifting him into the air and throwing him around like a doll. Len had seen him take plenty of beatings, but this was something else. Each time Barry hit the floor Len willed him to stand, to fight back. Why couldn’t he fight back? Len had warned him that they’d be coming after him. He had the lightning stick but why hadn’t they considered Jesse? The combined intellect of the entirety of Team Flash and they couldn’t take down a madman with a toy fetish? Mardon threw the Flash across the road again and Len barely registered the growl coming from his own chest. He watched as Jesse stepped forward to take the lead, kneeling down over Barry. When the Trickster pulled a knife and the blade caught the light, the glass bottle in Len’s hand cracked. The kid didn’t deserve to go out like this. This couldn’t be the end of the Flash. A voice in the back of his mind whispered to him, you chose to walk away, you could have done something. What could I have done? I warned him.  
Time seemed to slow down as Jesse leaned in for the killing blow. And then they were gone. The camera was too slow to follow the Flash but as the operator swung round wildly the frame caught the Trickster tied to a lamp post and the Weather Wizard on the floor. Zooming out to take in the whole scene, Len could finally see the Flash stood in the road, lightning rod back in hand. The relief he felt seeing Barry stood there flowed through him like a dam burst and he let out a long breath.  
Barry had won. Barry was alive. Barry had scared the hell out of him.  
Len was going to kill him.

Going to STAR labs would have been his easiest option, but Len didn’t want them knowing exactly how easy it was for him to walk in just yet. This was how he found himself waiting outside the West household, Barry having come back with them as he healed, watching for the lights to go out.  
They appeared to be having some sort of Christmas party, which objectively worked in Len’s favour. Let them all eat, drink and be merry - they’d be less likely to wake up at the sound of an intruder’s footsteps.  
Around midnight, people started to leave. Cisco stumbled out of the front door with the kind of grace that only the drunk possess, a string of lights wrapped around him. Len did understand what his sister saw in the guy but right now he knew that Cisco would never stand a chance against her.  
He waited an hour after the lights went out before he let himself in through the front door. Slightly alarming to see that there was still no upgrade to the security here, Len thought to himself. He made his way to Barry’s room easily, silently opening the door and ducking into the corner away from the sleeping form on the bed. The lamp on the road outside gave Len enough light to check the kid over, see the fading bruises and burns visible up his arms and neck, and the skin on his stomach showing where his shirt had rucked up. He had a brief impulse to put his hand out and spread his fingers over that skin before he shook it away. Barry had been reckless. Len had warned him and Barry had still run in half-cocked and, at best, had planned to allow Mardon to beat the living shit out of him. Len wanted to freeze him and leave him locked up until he developed some sense of self-preservation. More things hung on the existence of the Flash than just kittens in trees.  
Seeing Barry’s phone on the side, inspiration struck. Playing with the settings and placing it next to Barry’s head, Len padded back out of the room and down to the kitchen. After a few minutes searching, Len returned to the living room and sat in what he would now claim as his chair. Pulling out the burner from his pocket, he sent a quick text: Still no marshmallows - this doesn’t look good for you.  
A few seconds later he heard the obnoxiously loud ringtone and a heavy thump that sounded like a speedster falling out of bed. Len didn’t have to fake the smug grin on his face as the telltale blur heralded the arrival of his nemesis, the greatest challenge he’d supposedly ever face, standing before him with bed hair and pajamas.  
‘What the hell?’ Barry gasped, clearly disoriented. ‘What the hell is this? Why are you here?’  
‘It seems to be a chronic lack of marshmallows Barry, frankly it’s a little concerning.’  
‘Marshmallows? You can’t be serious?’ Barry was clearly at a loss, and Len was very much enjoying himself.  
‘I’m only following the example of the city’s favourite hero.’  
‘What is that supposed to mean?’  
‘Usually when people are given a warning about a credible threat to their life, they take it seriously.’ Len levelled Barry with a pointed stare as the speedster struggled to keep up.  
‘What? Are you talking about Weather Wizard and the Trickster? I did take it seriously! I don’t know if you noticed but we took them both down again,’ Barry was getting agitated. ‘We won! They’re both back in Iron Heights so what more do you want?’  
‘You’re right,’ Len said getting up out of the chair. ‘You won the day. You had everything under control. No surprises for Barry Allen.’  
That seemed to trigger some understanding in Barry, as he gripped the back of the couch and hung his head. ‘That’s what this is about?’ He looked back up at Len. ‘The Trickster’s bombs? Like I was supposed to know he’d do that?’  
The Trickster’s bombs? That was new, and could go some way to explaining why the Flash had performance issues. Yet damned if he was going to give an inch. ‘Really. You didn’t stop to consider that Jesse might have a few tricks up his sleeve? That Mardon would have bothered breaking him out if he could take you on his own?’ Len stepped into Barry’s space, putting as much derision in his tone as he could muster. ‘Now does that sound like taking it seriously?’  
Barry squared off against him. ‘Well I’m sorry we can’t all be master planners. It may have escaped your notice but I was trying to save the city. From your friends.’  
Len made a show of sighing. ‘Cute. But until you actually start thinking before you run in, then you’re still playing at being hero.’ He reached out to prod Barry’s stomach where he knew the bruises were darkest, watching him flinch back. ‘Amateur hour is over.’  
‘Why do you even care?’ Barry looked at him imploringly.  
‘We made a deal, you and I. One that you can’t uphold if you’ve been blown to high hell.’ Len turned to leave, satisfied that he’d gotten his point across. He had made it through the front door and down the porch steps by the time Barry had processed his thoughts. The feel of electricity danced in the air as Barry stood before him again.  
‘You broke into my house again just to tell me to take better care of myself?’ Barry had stopped in front of Len, his outstretched hand almost brushing the hem of the parka like he’d thought better of touching it at the last second.  
Even in darkness Len could see the light in Barry’s eyes, that same desperate hope that there was good in Len. He felt himself want to sway towards him, drawing on all his self control to stop. ‘I came here to warn you to up your game, Barry. You’ve been looking weak recently. This deal of ours means I keep a lot of your would-be enemies in line but I can only do that if they don’t start getting ideas that you’re vulnerable. Like Mardon did.’ He flashed Barry his best Cold smirk. ‘A weak Flash is bad for business.’  
Barry was at a loss, holding Len’s gaze like he could read his mind if he only tried. His outstretched hand moved forward until his fingers splayed out over Len’s chest. ‘Bad for business,’ he murmured. ‘You came here because you were worried about me. Because you cared.’  
Len didn’t say anything. The heat and static from Barry’s hand felt strangely intimate. He held his gaze for a moment, before stepping back. ‘Believe what you want, Barry.’ Without waiting for a response he walked past the frozen speedster, hoping the kid was sensible enough to let this drop.  
When he heard the telltale rush of wind followed by silence, he felt relieved. He was not prepared for where that conversation was leading. Seems like Barry wasn’t either.  
When he got back to into his car a couple of blocks over Len took a breath. He had just gotten out of prison, he had to work to do. He did not have time to get tangled up with Barry Allen when he had to go up against the Flash.  
Tossing his parka onto the back seat, he started the car and drove back to the warehouse. Len was going underground for a while.

Two months later and Len was stood in a private collector’s vault in an auction house in uptown Central. The new security system had been fun but this was more of a mission-oriented job; he already had a buyer lined up for the first edition that was supposed to go up for sale in two days. He was twenty feet from the entrance when that familiar lightning struck into the room.  
‘Cold.’  
Len heard the Flash’s voice behind him and brought the cold gun up as he whipped around. ‘Hello, Flash.’  
‘I was starting to think you’d left the city.’ Len assumed that Barry had been aiming for casual dismissal in his tone, but it seemed strained.  
‘Well I thought I deserved a little vacation after my incarceration. Didn’t you get my postcard?’  
The Flash scoffed. ‘Must have gotten lost in the mail.’  
‘Shame. Still, I got you a souvenir.’ Len smirked as he pulled the trigger. The blast hit the floor between them, which had the desired effect of sending Barry flying as soon as he tried to run. Len was out the door and into the alley as Barry crashed into the wall. Len turned and waited a beat, firing again as soon as he saw the lightning through the window. The blast hit Barry as he rushed through the door and sent him crashing into the industrial bins along the wall. Len chuckled to himself, climbing onto his bike at the end of the alley. This was too easy. Barry righted himself and shouted for Len to stop, making to run at him but a second later he was tangled in the tripwire Len had set up across the floor. He span across the ground and hit the wall, groaning as he rolled over. Len took aim again, a little ice to the feet should slow him down enough for Len to make a getaway, but the speedster didn’t move.  
‘I really could have done without this tonight Snart.’  
‘What’s the matter, Scarlet? Can’t get it up?’  
The Flash made a break for Len again, and immediately got taken down by his second tripwire.  
‘Now that was just careless. Your head’s not in the game Flash.’  
‘Great. Now even my nemesis thinks I’m not good enough.’ Len didn’t get the joke but when he looked, the speedster wasn’t smiling. He looked defeated.  
‘Do I need to steal you a tiny violin, Red?’  
‘You don’t need to do anything for me, Snart. As you have told me time and time again.’ Barry got up slowly, leaning against the wall.  
‘So you were listening. Good. That hero pitch was getting old.’ Len wasn’t sure what response his goading would elicit, but best to stick to tested methods while he was struggling to read Barry’s expression.  
‘Well if it makes you feel any better you’re not the only one who’s sick of me right now.’ Even if Len wasn’t close enough to see the pain in his eyes, the bitterness in Barry’s voice was clear. ‘You know today I was actually missing the man that killed my mother, just to remember what it was like to have someone believe in me? Not exactly heroic, huh?’  
Strained was right. Len wasn’t above kicking a man when he was down but looking at Barry his instinct felt more... protective. ‘Sounds like you’re the one that could use a vacation.’  
Barry laughed. ‘I wish I could. But I’ve got Zoom threatening the city, a meta made of tar dropping bodies and Captain Cold breaking into vaults.’  
‘You’re really selling that hero line, kid.’  
‘You don’t really seem in the villainous mood either, Lenny.’  
‘The fun seems to have gone out of this one, Flash.’  
Barry looked at him for a moment, conflict plain on his face even with the mask. Then he grinned. ‘Does that mean you’ll hand over what you stole and call it a night?’  
A smile played at the corner of Len’s mouth. He fired the cold gun where it was propped up on his motorcycle, freezing Barry’s feet to the floor. ‘You’ll have to put that thought on ice.’ He started the engine on his bike. ‘And Barry,’ he called over his shoulder as he turned the bike around. ‘Go easy on yourself. Plenty of people believe in the Flash.’  
He knew it was sentimental, but the kid seemed to need something, and Len was not about to give up his prize, so sentiment was all he had. He rode away without looking back.

A couple of weeks later, Len leant against the pool table in Saints and Sinners, enjoying a relaxed afternoon. His opponent, a local safecracker, was angling to get in on Len’s next heist. He’d already decided that he probably wouldn’t use the guy, but it couldn’t hurt to take a little money off in him in the meantime. So he sank a couple of balls, missed, laughed, convinced the guy to go double or nothing and then cleaned up. He was offering to buy the guy another beer when the front door swung open, spilling light across the dim room. Len glanced over, ever aware of his surroundings, to see an unmistakable silhouette.  
Sending his would-be partner away, he headed to the bar to flag the bartender’s attention. He didn’t look as Barry came to stand next to him, leaning on the counter. The speedster had a relentless energy about him, even when silent. Out of the corner of his eye, Len saw Barry open his mouth to speak, then huff and cut himself off. After the second time, Len decided to step in. ‘Spit it out Barry, whatever it is you want this time.’  
‘I don’t want anything,’ Barry fired back immediately. He opened his mouth to speak again but shut it as the bartender returned with Len’s beers, and one was placed in front him. He looked at Len briefly before looking back at the bottle. ‘Er, thanks,’ he mumbled.  
Len glanced at Barry, enough to register the kid’s expression. Last time he’d seen him, Barry had looked worn out, on the verge of defeated - now he just looked lost. Len almost gave in to the urge to go easy on him. Almost.  
‘So you came here to chat? You want to braid each other’s hair too?’ Len smirked and pushed himself off the bar, wandering over to a booth. Barry followed, of course.  
‘Yeah, sure, I bet you’d suit pigtails,’ Barry chuckled, sliding into the seat opposite him.  
‘Can’t say it’s a look I’ve ever tried,’ Len replied.  
‘Well I guess the buzz cut is a bit limiting.’ Barry gazed at him, near fondness in eyes. Not for the first time Len was struck by the man’s unending determination to see the good in him. Len knew that he still had a moral compass, he wasn’t a psychopath, but that didn’t make him a hero. He avoided killing people these days, because of the Flash, but he was still capable of it. He would do anything to protect his sister. He’d probably do as much for Mick, as reckless as the guy could be. He had no use for the law, apart from the kick he got out of breaking it and getting away clear. What it all came down to were Len’s own priorities. He didn’t care much for anything else, so unless he could see an advantage for himself, most things were unimportant. He was selfish.  
Barry was, too. In a more complex way. Barry would risk his life to save a complete stranger. But he would lock people in isolation to protect his secrets and take advantage of his job at the CCPD if needed. For all his protestations of heroism, Barry would pick and choose to follow the law as he pleased. Good and bad were relative. Maybe that’s why Barry could reconcile the bad in Len, because he was familiar with it in himself.  
Breaking out of his reverie, he dropped his eyes from Barry’s, with more effort than he cared to admit. Taking a swig from his bottle in lieu of saying anything, he considered his next move. If Barry didn’t want a favour, then he was here because he didn’t want to be anywhere else. Barry had a family and a team behind him so if he was hiding out at dive bars with his nemesis, he was probably not in a good way. There was a difference between believing there was good in someone and seeking them out as a friend.  
Barry watched him take a drink, something unreadable flitting across his expression, before he took a breath. ‘There are other Earths, did you know that? Parallel universes, like in the movies. Some things are different, some things are the same. There were all these breaches around the city, you might have heard.’ Barry wasn’t looking at Len anymore. He was talking because he needed to talk, so Len let him. ‘Zoom is from Earth 2. So we went there, me and Cisco, to see if we could figure out a way to stop him. It was fun, at first, cos there was another STAR labs, and cool cars and the clothes were amazing.’ Barry’s fingers curled around the beer bottle started picking at the label. ‘Iris was a cop, a damn good one, I always knew she would be. I wasn’t the Flash, I was still a CSI though. Everything else-’ Barry choked a little. ‘Everything else went to hell. Caitlin was an evil ice queen, Ronnie and Cisco too and they-’ Again Barry had to stop, Len watched him breath. ‘And then Joe. I know they’re different people, they’re not my people but it was still Joe. And I watched him die and it was- it felt awful. And after everything and finally getting out and getting back here, then Jay? All he’d ever done was protect his Earth.’ Barry looked up at him then, eyes wet, and Len ached to see the sadness in them.  
‘That’s quite a story,’ Len said, even though he was sure he only had the gist of what happened. ‘So you’re planning a revenge mission? Not my usual style, but-’  
‘No,’ Barry cut him off. ‘Not a revenge mission, I didn’t come here to recruit you.’  
‘You came here for something, Barry.’ Len could see the struggle on his face.  
‘I didn’t, I don’t want anything from you.’ Barry’s voice was thick, tears still on his face.  
Len felt frustration creeping in. He didn’t know what Barry wanted, sat there crying in front him. The speedster’s hurt and sadness was bleeding out of him and Len did not want to confront what that made him feel. Something in him was yelling at him to move, to leave, put as much distance between him and the Flash as possible. But something stronger kept him tied to Barry Allen. He needed to clear his head. And he was out of beer.  
When he got up to head to the bar, Barry’s expression dropped into panic. He obviously thought that Len had chosen to walk away.  
‘Wait, Len, please, I swear I don’t want anything from you,’ he rushed, almost reaching out to stop Len from moving. ‘I just wanted to see you, please.’  
Len froze. Looking back at Barry, his eyes were so wide, and in them Len could see so many things. Pain, sadness, desperation, pleading. Hope. Seeing Barry’s hand held out, Len wanted to take it in his own. Instead he reached past it, brushing gently down the back of Barry’s hand and resting his on Barry’s arm, in what he hoped was a reassuring gesture. Pulling back, he turned and caught the bartender’s attention, signalling for another drink and taking the moment away from Barry’s eyes to focus himself. After a beat, he dropped back into his seat. ‘Hardly seems like I am the type of person you should be looking for right now.’  
‘No, you are,’ Barry countered. ‘I’ve always known that you are. When I was on Earth 2 I got to see what the people I care about could have been if things were different. And it hurt to see the darkness in them, it really did.’ Barry shifted, both his hands stretched across the table but held short of touching Len. ‘But I also saw someone else. I saw you, Len.’ Barry had taken on that tone, the one Len knew meant he was about to get a lecture on morality from the Flash. ‘I don’t know what was different,’ Barry continued. ‘I don’t know what changed for you. But on Earth 2, you were the Mayor. And you were a hero to the people of that city. Everywhere I went I heard people talk about you. And I saw you give a speech, on tv. You were so- so passionate, so intense. And after all the horrible things I saw over there, after everything that happened, I just couldn’t let go of the one good thing I found. I always knew you could be a good man, Len. But to see it?’ Barry pulled his hands back, leaning against his seat. ‘I know it’s not you. I know he’s a different person. I just wanted to hold onto it for a bit longer. I wanted to see you.’  
Len had always prided himself on his ability to react, to think quickly and adapt, but right now he was floored. Barry had rendered him incapable. When his brain caught up to itself a few seconds later, all he had was one thought. He had seen how Barry wanted to believe in him. He could see it now. And if he didn’t stop this now, it was going to be so much worse when Barry finally realised what Len really was. Barry had to give up on him, for his own good.  
Len stood up out of the booth again. Looking down at Barry, he forced himself to remain steady. Barry was looking up at him, all his emotions still plain on his face.  
‘Like you said, kid. It wasn’t me.’  
This time, he walked away. 

No heists, no Rogue activity, Len had kept completely off the grid for weeks. He hadn’t even powered up the cold gun, since he knew they could track it. He was not going to give the Flash a chance to find him.  
But this was Central City and even a routine trip to case a bank could turn into a super-powered spectacle at the drop of a hat. He had been patiently observing the new security measures the bank had installed when a group of masked gunmen had started shooting. Len, after firing off a quick text to Mick, had ducked in with the hostages. Couldn’t hurt to see how this new security system acted first hand.  
The shutters came down over the counter, and judging by the stray bullets flying around, both the windows and the glass panelling were bullet proof. The doors into the back closed automatically, but the most interesting part was the front. The door and the walls were all made of frosted glass, reinforced as well, but as soon as the alarm went off the frosting disappeared. Any police response would have a clear view straight in to the entire foyer. Interesting.  
His attention was grabbed by a grating noise on the other side of the room. He turned just in time to see one of the crew pushing the door to the back off its hinges. The frame looked melted, like they’d used an acid to eat through the metal. Three of the guys went down into the vault, leaving two up with Len to watch the door and the hostages. Assuming that they used the same acid to get into the vaults and had a getaway van lined up to run the five of them out of there, Len estimated that they’d be long gone before the CCPD could organise themselves to respond.  
The private security pulling up out front, on the other hand...  
Len moved around the edge of the group of hostages, positioning himself against the wall by the fire exit. The two robbers left had seen the cars pull up, shielding themselves behind the pillars to the front of the foyer. Amateurs, Len thought.  
Len had done his research, and he knew the security company contracted for this bank. They had a predictable strategy, albeit one that kept them in business. The two cars at the front were a distraction. They would have the access they needed to open any doors, and while the gunmen were focused on the front, the rest of the team would head in through the sides. Any second-  
Now. Two doors burst open on either side of the building and the room filled with sounds of barked orders to put weapons down. The two gunmen opened fire, diving the seats in the waiting area. Two contractors went down and the rest returned fire. Len looked at the hostages cowering in front of him. They would be lucky if they missed any stray bullets as this ridiculous situation devolved into a shootout. As the last contractor moved away from the fire exit, Len shoved a wad of bank forms into the door frame, stopping the door from closing. Then he pulled out his phone again.  
Screams from across the room had him crawling along the wall, where he saw one of the gunmen had emerged from the vault, no doubt attracted by the gunfire. The screams had cut off, and Len could see the body on the floor, seemingly taken down by the same acid the gunmen had been using for their robbery. Moving further along he had a better view of the fight playing out. He watched as the new gunman ducked a bullet and launched himself at a contractor, gripping his head in his hands. The contractor started to scream as his flesh burned away from his face. The gunman wasn’t using acid, he was a meta with acid powers. Was there anyone left in this city who hadn’t been affected by Wells’ explosion?  
Another gunman appeared from the vault, this one loaded up with an impressive set of weaponry. Len watched as he pulled the pin on a grenade and threw it across the room, blasting through a pillar and bringing down a shower of rubble around the first group of contractors and the hostages. Len saw the fire go up just as he felt his phone go in his pocket. Spinning back towards the fire, he saw Mick burst through the door he’d propped open and storm into the flames. If he’d had more time Len would have marvelled at the poetry of it all. As it was, the rush of air fed into fire, sending it roaring up the wall and propelling Mick forward. The blast brought down part of the ceiling, blocking the exit. So much for plan A.  
‘Mick,’ he growled, pulling his partner alongside him, sheltered from the gun fight.  
Mick shook his head and looked up, blinking the daze out of his eyes. ‘Snart. You didn’t tell me you were throwing a party.’ He reached into his jacket and pulled out the cold gun, thrusting it into Len’s hand.  
‘I see you got my invitation,’ he shot back, smirking. ‘We’re moving to plan B, follow my lead.’  
‘What happened to plan A?’  
‘It got blown up.’  
‘Great.’  
‘There’s only one left down in the vault, we get in and then out through the back-’ his speech was cut off by a shout and a blur of lightning.  
The Flash skidded to a halt next to the group of contractors pinned down by the fire. ‘Everyone needs to stop shooting,’ he yelled. And was summarily ignored. He sped over to an unconscious body trapped in the rubble, still out of reach of the fire but only just. Pulling the man out, he gathered him in his arms and looked up to make his way out, only to lock eyes with his nemesis. He saw Barry’s mouth move and understood him even if he couldn’t hear.  
‘Len?’  
He blurred and disappeared, reappearing seconds later in front of Len. ‘What are you doing here? Are you involved in this?’  
‘Does this look like my scene, Flash?’  
‘So you’re just here by chance?’ Barry spat back.  
‘Innocent bystander,’ Len drawled. Barry glared at him, opening his mouth to speak again when a bullet shot passed them into the wall.  
The Flash sped into the fight, taking out one of the gunmen. Len grabbed Mick and pushed him ahead towards the acid-eaten door. He started to follow when he heard Barry cry out behind him. He spun around and saw Barry crashed against a wall, blood and acid falling down his shoulder. Len had the cold gun up and aimed at the new meta in a heartbeat, firing straight at his chest. When the stream hit, the meta screamed and his entire body seemed to liquify and hiss. He was knocked back away from Barry, but a moment later was pulling himself to his feet. Len fired again as Barry pushed himself up against the wall, sending the meta tumbling back over the rubble. One of the other gunmen took note of Len’s involvement and sent a spray of bullets towards him. He was aware an instant before Barry touched him that the speedster had yanked him away from their path. Rolling behind a counter, Barry had thrown his arms around him in the fall and was still wrapped up in him for a moment as Len fought to keep his balance. Looking into Barry’s face, he could see his eyes clearly behind the mask. As ever, the kid was lousy at hiding his emotions. Len saw the concern, the anger, the fear all mixed up in brilliant green. Barry scrambled away, pointedly looking anywhere but Len, his face falling when he looked over Len’s shoulder.  
‘Len, the hostages.’  
Len turned around and saw the group he had been trapped with before, pinned down by gunfire, covered in dust from the collapsed ceiling and being caged in by the growing fire.  
‘Len, please,’ he heard Barry call behind him. ‘Please help me get them out.’  
Len whipped back around to see Barry, his eyes pleading. He felt the exact moment when his expression betrayed that he was considering it, and so did Barry. He lunged forward and caught Len’s face in hands. ‘Please Len,’ he begged. ‘Please help me.’  
Len opened his mouth, but couldn’t speak. Barry took the opportunity to drag them together and kiss him firmly, pouring every ounce of desperation he had into it. Len’s ability to think short-circuited for a second before he caught up, wrapping his arms around Barry’s waist and pulling him in. Len kissed him back with a ferocity that surprised them both, practically growling when Barry pulled back.  
‘Len, please,’ he gasped. ‘The hostages, the fire, please.’  
‘Fine,’ Len snapped. ‘One favour, but you’ll owe me, Flash.’  
Barry huffed, a relieved smile spreading across his face, before he disappeared.  
Len wheeled around and fired his gun at the flames nearest the hostages. It was enough to extinguish the worst of the flames but the smoke was still thick.  
‘Everybody move,’ he yelled, shepherding them to the door that Mick had gone through. As they moved, Len kept one eye on the fight, firing whenever he got the shot to help the Flash. Between the gunfire and the actual fire, the already weakened building was collapsing under the pressure. The ceiling by the entrance had caved in completely. Reaching the melted door, he stood guard as the crowd of people behind him rushed through it. Barry was a lightning streak, having taken out the last gunman and pulled the injured contractors out.  
Scanning the foyer he saw the acid meta climbing out of the rubble. The meta flung his arms out and a jet of acid sprayed over the room. The blur that was the Flash was caught underneath it and Barry lost control, crying out and flying into the wall. Len strode forward as the meta raised his arms again, firing without hesitation. The meta screamed again, his body liquefying, but Len was prepared this time. He kept his finger tight on the trigger, driving the meta back as he walked forward. The meta’s screams cut off as he dropped to the ground, out cold. Len didn’t want to take any chances and aimed again but Barry appeared in front of him.  
‘He’s out, he’s out, you can stop,’ he begged, one hand on Len’s chest. ‘I’ve got him from here.’  
Len snarled, but put his gun up. He could have sworn he felt the briefest pressure against his lips as the feel of electricity crackled around him. Then Barry was gone, and so was the meta.  
Len turned and ran to the door that the hostages had gone through, coming face to face with Mick. The corridor down to the vaults behind looked suspiciously on fire and Mick had a bag over his shoulder. The hostages were all crowded into the room beyond.  
‘What the hell are you doing?’ Mick growled at him.  
Len elected to ignore the question. ‘Did you bring the van?’  
‘Yeah.’  
‘Good, let’s get out of here. We’re taking these people with us.’  
Len ran ahead to follow the hostages, confident Mick would follow. Overtaking the crowd he pushed through the door on the far side of the room. He had the blueprints for this bank in his head and he could navigate their route out easily. Another room, another corridor and he was flinging open a fire exit into the alley behind the bank. He saw the van that Mick had arrived in, next to another private security car that was, again, suspiciously on fire.  
For a second he paused, hoping that Barry had gotten out and stayed out, still able to feel a tingling on his lips, before turning back to the now freed hostages. He had just started to convince the kid that the hero speech was a waste of time, and now he’d gone and pulled a rescue mission. Barry was going to be insufferable. Glancing at Mick, the picture of a stereotypical bank robber covered in blood, soot and with a bag thrown over his shoulder, he had an idea.

Later that night, Mick stumbled out of the bar they’d been celebrating in, Len following after him in a slightly more sober state. They walked the few blocks back to the warehouse they were currently staying in, Mick vaguely trying to sing along to the last song he heard on the jukebox. Len would never admit it but the sight of his oldest friend swaying both to the music and the alcohol, celebrating after a good day, lifted something in him.  
As soon as he was inside, Mick grabbed another beer from the crate on the side and made for the next room. A moment later he heard the radio blast out and the singing continue, and the sound of Mick falling onto the makeshift couch.  
Picking up a beer for himself, he made to follow Mick when something made him stop. A static in the air. Walking away from Mick and into another part of the warehouse, Len tossed the bottle top to the side and took a long drink. Stopping by one of the windows, he looked out at the starry sky until he felt the presence he was looking for, until he was sure. Wheeling around he grabbed the cold gun from the bench in front of him, bringing it up to aim at the man he knew was standing in the doorway.  
‘Still think you can sneak up on me, Flash?’ Len smirked as panic covered Barry’s face. No matter how good the Flash was, Len could still get the drop on him. He powered down the gun and placed it back on the bench, chuckling to himself as he tipped his bottle up to his mouth again. The panic fell away to something else as Barry watched him.  
‘I guess I should know better by now,’ he said, taking a few steps towards Len. ‘Like I should have known what would happen if you and Heatwave were left alone in a bank,’ he continued. There was no malice in his voice, and half a grin on his face as he gazed at Len with that familiar fondness. ‘They said that there were quite a few things missing from the vault that weren’t found on the robbers. And the rest of it was mostly on fire.’  
‘How would I know anything about that? Innocent bystander, remember?’  
‘Funny,’ Barry said in a softer voice, taking a few more steps towards Len. ‘I remember you taking a more active role. A more heroic role.’  
‘An exaggerated version of events, I assure you. Maybe you took one too many blows to the head,’ Len replied, resisting the urge to reach out and pull Barry the rest of the way to him.  
‘Accelerated healing, I think my memory is just fine.’ Barry put his hands in his pockets. Without the Flash suit, Barry always looked more unsettled, like the energy that he carried was out of place.  
‘There was something else I remember,’ Barry said, inching ever so slightly closer. ‘Something I really hope was not an exaggeration.’  
This was it, Len thought, this was his out, and he should take it. He had taken what he’d wanted in the bank, but keeping it was hardly a viable option. How would it even work? Would he date his nemesis? Spend his days going up against the Flash and his nights pressed up against Barry Allen? Would he look forward to coming home to the man who would actively try to ruin every plan he made? It was a terrible plan, a disaster waiting to happen.  
The hope was fading out of Barry’s face by the second. ‘Unless it was. I get it. Adrenaline. Heightened emotions. I get it.’ Barry was looking anywhere but at Len, the disappointment in his voice tangible.  
‘Barry,’ Len murmured. He wanted Barry to understand. It was always going to end like this. He thought about the first time he saw Barry’s disappointment, and tried to remind him. ‘I’m a criminal,’ he continued, repeating himself. ‘And a liar. And I hurt people. And I rob them.’  
‘And you saved me.’ Barry didn’t miss a beat as he stepped into Len’s space, catching his gaze and holding it. ‘And you saved those people today.’  
‘Barry.’ Len’s tone had a note of warning to it this time.  
‘Look, I know,’ Barry said, placating. ‘I know how crazy this is.’ His hands came up to grip Len’s jacket. ‘But I can’t ignore it anymore, either. Especially not now.’  
Len couldn’t help the sigh that escaped him, but he didn’t move.  
Barry took it as encouragement, pulling tighter on Len’s jacket. ‘All I’m asking for is a chance. I know it won’t be easy, but what has ever been easy for either of us?’  
Len raised an eyebrow at that. ‘The hero isn’t supposed to end up with the villain, that’s not how these stories end.’  
‘After what we’ve been through, the things we’ve done? I think we both know it’s not that black and white.’ Barry smiled at him. ‘Besides, when has Leonard Snart ever followed the rules?’  
Len stared at Barry, at his smile, at the light in his eyes, and realised that he was not going to be able to walk away. He couldn’t believe that this would end well, neither could he believe that Barry truly understood what he was asking. But Len was selfish, he always had been. A villain. A thief. So why shouldn’t he steal Barry Allen?  
Leaning forward, he closed the last distance between them and pressed his lips to Barry’s. Winding his arms around the speedster’s waist he pulled Barry flush to him, trapping his hands between them where they still gripped Len’s jacket. Len kissed him hard, relishing the the softness of Barry’s mouth and when Barry gasped for air Len pressed his advantage, tasting lightning on Barry’s tongue. He felt Barry respond to him, pushing up against him and pulling him in all at once, desperate to have everything Len could give him. When Len pulled back, Barry followed, chasing him and kissed him again. Like in everything, Len thought, he took what he wanted and then Barry would come after him, wouldn’t let him get away. The thought made him smile into the kiss. Sliding his hands round to Barry’s hips, Len held him place as he pulled back again. His breathing was shallow and his heart was beating hard, and seeing Barry look at him with so much want, lips shining, he felt his mind stutter. What would Barry do if he knew that Len could be completely overwhelmed with only a look?  
‘What is it?’ Barry breathed.  
Len realised he was still smiling and he considered for a moment whether or not he should admit his new-found weakness to his nemesis. No, he thought, where’s the fun in that? Instead his smile morphed into something a little more villainous. ‘Who knew the Flash would get so hot for Captain Cold?’  
Barry laughed, his whole face lighting up. ‘Are you telling me I need to cool down?’  
‘Absolutely not.’ Len swung Barry round to push him up against the bench and kissed him again. Barry flung his arm out to steady himself and started when his hand collided with metal and he heard the whir of the cold gun. It was Len’s turn to laugh as he lifted it off of the bench from behind the speedster.  
Trailing his fingers down the gun and onto Len’s hand, Barry looked at him with a grin. ‘I don’t suppose this means you might start helping me out more?’  
‘Don’t push your luck,’ Len said, leaning over to place the cold gun out of reach.  
‘You looked really good out there today,’ Barry pushed. ‘Saving people suits you.’  
‘It’s not going to happen,’ Len said, putting his hands back on Barry’s waist.  
‘I don’t know, you seemed to enjoy yourself a bit,’ Barry chimed, resting his arms on Len’s shoulders.  
‘I enjoyed having a vault practically gift-wrapped for me,’ Len drawled.  
‘I thought you didn’t know anything about that?’  
‘You going to arrest me, Barry?’ Len said, using his foot to knock Barry’s leg to the side, allowing him to step between them where he leaned against the bench.  
‘Well you are a villain.’  
‘I’m pretty sure there are about thirty people who will say I was the hero today.’  
‘You mean the hostages that you saved?’ Barry said with raised eyebrows.  
‘The very ones,’ Len smirked.  
‘The same hostages that gave statements saying that immediately after Captain Cold and Heatwave led them out of the bank, they turned around and robbed them?’  
It took everything Len had to hide his glee. He’d known exactly how much his little stunt would wind up the Flash and he enjoyed every second of it. ‘I like to think of it as payment for services rendered.’  
‘I like to think of it as petty larceny,’ Barry said, failing to look as stern as he probably hoped.  
‘Having second thoughts about taking up with a criminal, Flash?’  
Barry stilled at that. ‘Do you think it should worry me that I’m not?’ he said, moving one hand from Len’s shoulder to hold his face.  
‘No,’ Len said, leaning into the touch a little. ‘I’ve always known you had the potential to be as ruthless as they come. Your history made sure of that, same as mine. Who knows, maybe that’s why we get along. You see the good in me. And I see the bad in you.’  
‘Maybe,’ Barry said quietly, his gaze dropping to the floor.  
‘What I do know,’ Len continued, ‘is that it doesn’t matter how many laws he’s broken, the Flash is, and always will be, a hero.’  
Barry looked back up at Len, that familiar fondness radiating out.  
Len leaned in, stopping a hair’s breadth from Barry’s mouth. ‘And maybe Captain Cold will make sure things stay that way.’  
When Len closed the gap, he felt Barry’s lips smiling against his own. He wondered if kissing Barry would always feel this electric, if he would always taste of lightning. Part of him was still convinced that this would end in a spectacular fallout. Len was no hero, regardless of the odd heroic act. But another part of him, the part that got louder and louder when Barry was in his arms, was telling him that he was Leonard Snart. Captain Cold. Criminal, liar, murderer, thief. And if anyone was capable of stealing a new ending for this story, it was him.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading!
> 
> This wasn't edited or beta'd by anyone so please let me know if you spot any mistakes.
> 
> Also, I swing between wanting the Mayor Snart of Earth 2 to be Lisa or Leonard. But for the purposes of this fic it had to be Leonard. Maybe I'll write a Mayor Lisa fic too.


End file.
